


Meet Your Heroes

by dotpng



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 18:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10724412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotpng/pseuds/dotpng
Summary: At first when she'd seen her, she'd just kind of squinted across the bar. The place was kind of a hole in the wall in the lower wards, not the kind of dive Ryder would've expected to see the first human Spectre- but then what did she know?Besides everything in all the official Alliance press releases, vids and Citadel gossip she could get her hands on, that is.





	Meet Your Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> Set in 2185, in the year after Shep's resurrected but before the launch of the Andromeda Initiative.

At first when she'd seen her, she'd just kind of squinted across the bar. The place was kind of a hole in the wall in the lower wards, not the kind of dive Ryder would've expected to see the first human Spectre- but then what did she know?

Besides everything in all the official Alliance press releases, vids and Citadel gossip she could get her hands on, that is.

Dead and back again, people were saying. Seemed too wild to believe.

Shepard was here though, somehow, if she could trust her own eyes. In a tank and jeans instead of armor, sure, and only partially lit by the neon bar decor, but it definitely _looked_ like her. Ryder wobbled a bit as she stood up and walked over. To be fair she had had a lot to drink. It would figure that she’d hallucinate her teenhood crush.

“Shepard? Commander Shepard?” she blurted out.

The woman glanced up from her glass (fuck, was that _ryncol?)_ and flashed her a smile. “The one and only.”

Holy shit, it really was her. “Uh, it's just- I'm a huge fan. I’ve watched all the official Alliance promo vids, I enlisted because of you, you're _so_ awesome-” _Try again, and be cool this time_ . “So, um, hi.” _Nope_.

“Always nice to meet a fan.” Shepard held out a hand for her to shake. “What’s your name, soldier?”

She took the hand in both of hers and shook it enthusiastically. “Sara. Sara Ryder.”

At that Shepard perked up a bit. “Wait, you’re not Alec’s kid, are you?”

She bit her lip, torn between pride and apprehension; Dad’s name wasn't necessarily a favorite with military types since his dismissal. “Yeah, you know him?”

“Met him during N1 training back in the day. Kind of a hardass.” Shepard took a sip of her drink, thoughtful. “Good soldier though, dedicated. Especially with the tech he was working on; shame he was discharged.”

That was a first. “You don’t care?”

“Listen- Come on, sit.” She sighed. “I don’t know the details, but I’ve been through enough to know there’s two sides to everything; and no offense, but sometimes Alliance brass wouldn’t recognize a good idea if it kicked them in the ass.” Shepard tapped the side of her skull. “If it wasn’t for research into AI-human symbiosis, you wouldn’t be talking to me right now. Courtesy of a weird xenophobic billionaire, but who am I to complain, right?” Her eyes lit up. “And even better! He fixed me up with a new Normandy, got most of my crew back…”

“I’ve got a model Normandy in my room back home.” she said, and immediately regretted saying something so dorky.

Shepard just smiled, though. “Yeah, me too. She’s a beaut, isn’t she?”

 _Not the only thing._ Shepard looked different from the vids, tired and older, early thirties instead of an airbrushed twenty five. But she also looked more real, whatever that meant, in her civvies instead of the N7 armor she always had on in posters; seeing her now in the flesh, Ryder could see her freckles extended to a smattering on her shoulders, overlapping faint pale scars and deeper gouges.

Different, weird scars crisscrossed over her cheek; in the dim light of the bar, they glowed a faint red. Those were new, Ryder thought, kind of wanted to reach out and touch them. And then, her _biceps, holy shit_.

She caught herself, suddenly, felt her face heat up. “Oh my God, sorry, I'm staring.”

Shepard waved away her concern, laughing. “Don't worry about it. I’ve been getting that a lot, since, y’know, dying. And anyway, I’ve met some real weirdos, even had a guy impersonating me a while back? So relax. You’re cool.”

“Gosh, can I-” Ryder floundered and glanced down at Shepard’s now-empty glass. “Can I get you a drink or something?”

“Oh, sure, thanks. I’ll have a batarian ale on the rocks.”

Ryder hesitated. “I’ll have, uh…”

“Whatever you do,” Shepard placed a hand on her shoulder, and _oh God_ _Shepard's hand was on her shoulder_ , “ _please_ don’t order something lethal to impress me or whatever. My friend, big turian guy, he has whatever the dextro version of an appletini is every time we go out, and he’s the toughest guy I know. Just, order normally, okay? And for the love of God don’t order ryncol. Passed out immediately the first time I had it. Turns out, you’re not supposed to chug it.”

Ryder gaped at her. “You _chugged_ ryncol??”

“What? No one told me!”

“Do you… do you just chug any liquid you’re served?”

Shepard shrugged. “I mean, yeah!”

Okay, so she had a death wish.

How ironic would it be, Ryder thought, if the indestructible, unbeatable Commander Shepard dodged death in combat time and time again, even coming back from the dead to continue her fight for humanity, only to be felled by a particularly strong cocktail?

Ryder looked up. “Yeah, I’ll just have another rum and coke.”

After the bartender came back with their drinks, Shepard turned to Ryder. “So, Sara. You’re Alliance? What do you do, exactly?”

Ryder fidgeted with her glass. “Well, until recently, I was working on with researchers on Prothean digs- not that much combat but really exciting stuff. Now though...” She trailed off. “You heard about the Andromeda Initiative?”

“Yeah. Travelling across space for 600 years… sounds like an incredible project.”

“My dad, my brother and I- we’re all going.” Saying it out loud, it was weird. “In a few months, actually.”

“Hmm. That's pretty brave.” Shepard propped her chin on her hands. “You gonna miss this place?”

“I- I don’t know. I don’t really have anything here, you know? Not any family or friends to speak of. But it’s where I’m from, and I'll never see it again. It’s hard to wrap my head around.”

Shepard tilted her head, gave a sympathetic glance. “That maybe why you’re hanging out in this dump alone?”

Ryder frowned. Admitting it felt like defeat, somehow. “I’m not alone. I’m- You’re here,” she finished lamely.

Suddenly Shepard downed the rest of her glass, slammed it back down on the bar. “You’re right. We're both here together! No point moping.” She jumped up and grabbed Ryder's hands, yanked her off her seat. “Let’s go dance!”

“Oh! No, you don’t wanna dance with me- I swear, I can’t dance at all-”

“Oh man, kid,” Shepard laughed, “you _really_ don’t know me.”


End file.
